Tomorrow, Just You Wait And See
by LowlifeTheory
Summary: Pregnant to ace fighter pilot Derek Hale, nurse Lydia Martin finds herself in a predicament in war wracked England in 1944. Now all she has to do is tell Derek that's she's expecting his baby.


The train pulled out of the station with a shrill ring of the whistle and a pump of the engines as the wheels pushed along the lines through dull early January weather. Clouds, faded grey pushed together and rain threatened to fall once again.

Looking out the window Lydia Martin crossed her legs and fixed her skirt across her lap, plucking a stray thread and dropping it onto the dirty carriage floor.

'Honestly, this place.' Kali complained landing beside her and immediately removing her shoes to wiggle her toes. Lydia hummed watching out the window as town blended into countryside, tall hedges and small fields, sheep and cows grazing happily aware of nothing but the immediate surroundings. Some horses galloped away as the train passed them, clumps of damp earth spraying in their wake. In the distance a small tractor was pulling across a muddy field.

Life was moving swiftly on in England in the dying winter of 1944.

'Lydia,' Allison said reaching forward and touching her knee, 'are you still with us?'

'Yes?' Lydia asked turning to her best friend.

'Are you alright, you've been very quiet lately.' Erica said from beside Allison.

'I missed my monthly.' Lydia said with a sigh. She didn't particularly want to tell anybody but these were her friends and she needed to get it off her shoulders.

'Oh,' Kali said crossing her legs, 'they say stress can-'

'I'm not stressed.' Lydia answered. 'I'm disgraced. I'll be sent home to my mother with a scarlet letter on my breast.' Lydia said, imagining her mother's angry face at the sight of Lydia pregnant.

'Oh don't be silly,' Erica said nudging her knee, 'Derek will marry you.'

Derek Hale, the bane of Lydia's existence, the love of her life. 'For one thing he'll need permission. And the army won't keep me here at any cost. No I'll be sent home, an end to a mediocre adventure.' If a war could be called an adventure. Lydia hated the war, loathed and detested it, young men dying for silly reasons, while tyrants sat safe in their offices all over the world sending them to their death, but she had gotten the opportunity to travel here, that had to count for something.

'Derek's an officer, they don't need permission do they?' Allison asked looking around the group.

'No idea.' Kali shrugged resting a hand on Lydia's thigh, squeezing her fingers.

'Does he know?' Erica asked twirling her long hair between her fingers.

'No!' Lydia snapped glaring a warning around the group. 'I don't want him to either.'

'Derek's a good guy.' Kali muttered leaning back in her seat and opening her gas mask box where she kept everything but the mask. Lydia noticed food, makeup and her hair brush, buried beneath identification papers and the local newspaper.

'Derek's a great guy and he seems very fond of you.' Allison said poking Lydia on the knee again.

'He is very fond of her. So Stiles says.' Erica grinned knowingly.

'If anyone should be pregnant it should be you!' Lydia said loftily.

'Stiles uses rubbers, and when we don't got any he pulls out.' Erica said raising her chin, but a small smile curled on her lips. 'Can you get pregnant from sex in the butt?'

Lydia and Allison gaped at her while Kali rolled her eyes. 'No idiot, and you call yourself a nurse!'

Erica shrugged. 'At least we're safe then. Get Derek to do your butt.'

'I think the damage has already been done.' Allison said nudging Erica. Lydia rolled her eyes again and went back to staring out the window as the winter sun started to sink low in the sky. The weather had forecast rain; Lydia hoped it waited until after Sunday to arrive, she was looking forward to her weekend away from the dreary business of war.

They arrived in London, surrounded by hustle and bustle. London was a mixed pot, shops and bars, fancy hotels surrounded by rubble, building that used to thrive now lay there, ignored. "Make Do and Mend" was a slogan Lydia had heard repeated endlessly, and she figured women applied it to more than their stockings and winter coats.

They found a hotel, booked a room, and immediately got ready for a night in London Town. Lydia used her favourite red lipstick, and even offered to let her friends borrow it, but they declined, having brought their own.

Stockings fixed and heels on Lydia followed her friends determined to have a good time knowing full well it could be her last for a long time. When the army found out she was pregnant she would be shipped home without a second thought.

Erica got invited to dance first by handsome young Canadian sailor with a crooked grin. They shared three songs until Lydia noticed his hands dipping lower over Erica's round bottom. Erica's palms were on his shoulders, resting lightly there, but she hit him hard on the chest when she didn't like the liberties he was taking. She was back at the table a moment later, muttering curses to herself, complaining about men who weren't gentlemen. Lydia took a sip of her gin and tonic and raised an eyebrow, deciding not to point out that Stiles was the least gentlemanly man she knew.

'Bastard touching what isn't his. As if the war is an excuse.' Erica said poking a finger into Kali's chest. Kali's brown eyes tracked down to the red painted nail and back up to Erica's grumpy face. Lydia hid a smirk behind her hand at the antics of the two girls.

Erica had grown up in the city. She was a tough girl, the middle child of five. She had to fight for what was hers, had to lie to join the army, had to dress up the amount of experience she had as a nurse. She had her qualifications of course, but she didn't have the required time practicing as a nurse, and she was only twenty one, where the minimum age was twenty two. Even though she could take care of herself, and had to do so plenty in the past, sometimes Lydia and the other girls felt fiercely protective of her.

'What would Stiles say?' Kali asked teasingly. Allison watched avidly from her seat, ignoring the young soldier who was trying to catch her eye.

Erica shrugged a shoulder. 'I'm allowed to dance with whomever I want as long as his hands stay away from Stiles designated areas.'

Lydia laughed at that. Erica and Stiles were totally and utterly head over heels, and it amused Lydia to no end. She never seen any couple as cute as Erica and Stiles, hell one evening a few weeks past she had caught them half naked in Erica's room in the house they all shared. Stiles was helping Erica paint polish onto her toe nails.

'What's a Stiles designated area?' Allison asked resting her cheek on her closed fist, a fond smile on her face.

'Ass, tits, any part of my leg, lips, neck, um, hair?' Erica said with a shake of her head.

Lydia rolled her eyes. Cute they may be, but neither of them had the sense to hold their tongue in any sort of company, she supposed they were perfect for each other.

'May I have this dance?' A smooth voice said beside Lydia. She turned to see an RAF pilot, officer by the look of his sleeve, with a smile on his face.

Lydia smiled back, delighted that an English officer would welcome her and her group like this, and stood, placing her hand in his. 'One can't hurt surely.'

He led her to the floor and placed a hand on her waist. 'It's a pretty evening.' The man said. He was handsome, tall with blond hair and wise eyes, perhaps in his mid-thirties.

'Really, you're making small talk before you've even asked for my name.' Lydia said raising her eyebrow.

'Well aren't you Yank girls feisty huh?' He teased. 'It's Deucalion.'

'Pleased to meet you Deucalion, my name is Lydia.' Lydia said.

'You've never heard my name before?' Deucalion teased with a smile.

'If you mean have I many friends called Deucalion then I have to admit I haven't, but then none of my friends have fathers called Prometheus.' Lydia said swishing her hair over her shoulder.

'Smart girl. I like it.' Deucalion said with a wide smile.

'Good.' Lydia said as they moved their dance from one tempo to another with the change of music. They danced for several songs before Deucalion asked her to join him outside.

'I just want a breath of fresh air,' he said taking her hand and pulling her behind him. Lydia followed him, shivering in the cold air. Deucalion shrugged out of his blue jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

'How manly,' Lydia muttered but sunk into the warmth his body left behind on the material, 'tell me, how are you breathing fresh air when you've lit a smoke?'

'Clears my lungs.' He said taking a deep breath. Lydia made an agreeing noise but a sharp wail carried through the night skies.

'Quick!' Deucalion grabbed her hand, tugging her behind him across the street. It took Lydia a moment to realise it was an air raid siren, warning them of impending danger.

'My friends!' Lydia said pulling back but Deucalion pulled her forward.

'They'll be fine, come on!' They rushed through the streets until they came to a shelter, a warden at the door as they passed calling out safety warnings as they scurried down stairs.

Deucalion led her to a quiet corner of the underground shelter and they took a seat on a long wooden bench pressed against a grimy brick wall. Around them everyone was busy, noisy as they struggled for space. Two mothers fought over a bed they had dumped their children on, a soldier watched two girls with mild interest as they talked about finding themselves a man, and a grandmother set up shop with a small dog on her lap and carried on with her knitting ignoring the world around her.

This was their lives, Lydia realised as small boys chased each other with toy aeroplanes and girls combed each other's hair. Neighbours took adjacent beds to carry on conversations from the afternoons, soldiers sat on kit bags, giving up beds and seats to civilians, just another thing this war forced them to give up for their fellow man.

It wasn't long before the first drones of enemy planes approached. Beside her Deucalion started a rolling commentary, and she barely listened, until the words "night lightening" caught her ear. He carried on but her thoughts were already elsewhere.

'They're night fighters,' he told Lydia what she already knew, the P-38, designed to, among other things, fly at night. She knew because Derek Hale, the father of her baby, flew night missions. Would he be up there in the skies leading his squadron against an unseen enemy, protecting these people, their world, and their lives? Was he up there right now risking his life while his girl sat with a strange man on a wooden bench deep beneath the streets of London pregnant with his child?

They waited it out, tensing up at each loud noise, and breathing a sigh of relief for their lives. When the all clear sounded Deucalion joined her walking outside. 'I'll walk you back,' he said resting her hand on the small of her back and guiding her onto the street. Lydia paused, taking in rising plumes of smoke from around her.

'I can take myself back.' Lydia said and she walked along the early morning streets, watching the resilient Londoners picking their lives back together, occasionally stopping to help where she could, even offering her services at a hospital as she passed it.

'Did you hear the noise of those bombs?' Erica asked from the other bed.

'It was frightening!' Allison agreed. She was sharing with Lydia, lying on her side looking towards the other girls.

'I wasn't frightened.' Kali said examining her nails.

'You were off with a sailor,' Erica accused, 'I doubt you heard much above his panting in your ear!'

Kali shrugged. 'How did you get on with your pilot?' She asked Lydia.

'We sat in a shelter until the all clear and then I walked home.' Lydia wiggled her toes as she curled into her bed.

'Must have been a long walk!' Kali accused checking the time.

'I'm a nurse; I stopped to lend a hand to people.' Lydia snapped.

'I stopped with several families too,' Allison admitted to them, 'there was this little girl with blood all over her face helping her mother pick through their wreckage of a home to gather what belongings they could.'

'I stopped by the hospital for a few hours and asked if they needed me,' Erica said.

'I stopped at a community clinic.' Kali added. 'I'm just back.'

'What shall we do tonight?' Erica asked as she stretched out on the bed. Allison snorted.

'No more dances.' She declared.

'Well I don't want to see a film; it would be terrible if it were interrupted!' Erica said tangling her honey blond hair around her fingers.

'I'd love to see one though, a good western or a gangster picture.' Kali sighed. Lydia hummed in agreement.

'We may as well go out. If there's a raid we'll have to go anyway.' Lydia decided.

'Let's nap first.' Allison said sinking lower into the bed beside Lydia. They all agreed and soon were snoring softly in their beds.

Lydia dreamt she was in an air raid shelter, but she was alone. Bombs could be heard falling around her and then boots, footsteps coming towards her. A tall man with dark hair approached. Derek looked terribly handsome in his uniform. He took Lydia in his arms and kissed her, laying her gently on one of the narrow beds before joining her, rolling behind her and caging her in, holding her safe in his arms. When she woke Allison had a skinny arm thrown across Lydia, but it lacked the weight and comfort of Derek's.

They went to the picture house, but all through the flick Lydia's temples throbbed with pressure. She needed to talk to Derek, vowed to as soon as she saw him again. That night there was another raid. This time they were prepared, and they spent their time in the shelter with their bags packed for travelling back home by their side. In the morning they did what they could before they were forced to catch their train back to the Village of Lincoln Bridge.

The village was a two hour train ride from London, but with the war and transport the way it was, that journey time was almost doubled. The village itself played host to a handful of evacuated children, sent to the country to keep safe from bomb raids. In the centre of the village was the Green, with a pond and river running through it. There was a bridge there, made from the same stone that had built Lincoln Cathedral in the Midlands. Lydia thought that on beautiful summer evenings it was the most beautiful place in the world.

It was raining when the train pulled into the station, the sky around them darkened. The girls got off in darker moods than they had got on, making the walk back to the US Army base half a mile from the village. By the time they got there the rain was heavy, coming down in sheets. Lydia pulled her overcoat tighter around her chest as they approached the house they all shared. The base had originally been a large manor house with extensive grounds before it was offered to the US army by the owner, who still lived in a cottage on the edge of the property with his wife and grandson. There were various houses around it, for workers and general tenants to rent. The one they shared was unusual, there were two bedrooms plus two attic rooms, and after some careful work they were lucky to have a room each, even if two of them were on the small side. Erica and Lydia took the two bedrooms on the first floor while Allison and Kali slept in the attic rooms.

As they approached however, they noticed a dark figure waiting by the front door. Lydia's heart thumped hard when she recognised Derek's profile. 'Evenin' guv'nor!' Erica teased in her worst English accent. Derek just watched them pass him by as they went inside, his eyes sliding to Lydia.

'Hi,' Lydia said with a soft smile.

'Hi.' Derek was gruff as ever, looking at her levelly.

'Come inside, I'm sure Kali will be making coffee by now.' Lydia said holding her hand out towards Derek. He looked down at her fingers and stepped beside her, ignoring her hand completely. Lydia felt a swell of hurt settled in her belly, realising that Deucalion was the last person to take her hand. It was silly, but Lydia longed for that comfort from Derek, a comfort she would never get if he were in one of his darker moods.

Inside Kali indeed had the kettle on the boil while Allison stoked up the stove. Erica had carried their overnight bags upstairs and was probably collecting bed warmers from there for them. 'Not on duty Derek?' Kali asked as she lifted five mugs from the cupboard. Lydia watched her work from her seat at the table, ignoring Allison's questioning gaze.

'No.' Derek said. Kali knew not to expect more from him, his short words were as much as they would get. Once they had mugs in their hands Derek pushed off from the wall. 'We need to talk,' he said as Erica swept past them. He ignored her too and led Lydia towards the good front sitting room of the house, a room Lydia knew Derek hated. He hovered with his coffee for a second before sitting on one of the uncomfortable sofas and setting his untouched coffee on a coaster. Lydia held hers, letting it warm her cool fingers.

'Where were you?' Derek asked as he gazed at his hands.

'We went to London.' Lydia said finally taking a small sip of the bitter drink. It was hot, and it stung her mouth, but that was a small hurt compared to Derek's mood.

'That was stupid.' Derek muttered. 'There was a raid there last night and the night before.'

'I know Derek, I was there.' Lydia said wiggling her toes to see if the feeling was back. It wasn't.

'I was flying both nights, it was chaotic. You could have died.' Derek's voice was hard, betraying what sounded like caring words.

'We helped out, there were some families there, civilians with injuries, minor ones that freed up hospital staff for other more serious work.' Lydia told him. Derek finally raised his eyes. 'I went to a hospital the morning after the first raid, and there was so much blood, and pain. Some people were hospitalised but they had lost their homes. On the way home I passed a woman who was looking at her building. A telegram delivery boy arrived asking who had lived in number seventeen, she said it was her. The telegram told her that her husband was dead. She didn't cry, she just read it and folded it, put it into her pocket and told her oldest girl to look after her youngest boy while she tried to find a picture of their father.' Lydia stopped, thinking of the child inside her, how dangerous the world was how the baby, a girl, because Lydia knew with all her heart it was a girl, may never meet her father. She resolved that now she had to confess to Derek, to tell him, because it wasn't fair not to, he had to know and they would deal with the consequences. Derek took a breath to respond to her story and she waited to hear his words.

'I think it's time we ended this silly little fling.'

Time seemed to still as Lydia digested his words. Silly little fling, end the silly little fling. Silly, their relationship was silly, her love was silly. Fling, this eleven month relationship was not a fling. Lydia had lain with him; Lydia had given him what she thought he needed. When he sought her out, broken and fragile after another member of his squadron was lost, after a particularly hard night, Lydia didn't see a fling, she felt a relationship.

'Is that what you really think of our relationship?' Lydia asked biting her lip. Derek sighed and stood up.

'There's a war on Lydia, some things are more important than sex.' Derek snapped.

'They certainly are, there's a war on, and we're all here, in a strange country, fighting to protect what we believe in, fighting to protect our values, our loves ones, our future.' Lydia said standing to stare at him. Her hand came to rest at her tummy, and she didn't care if he noticed, how he could not know that she loved him when she did everything he asked of her.

Derek snorted. 'Stiles asked me for permission to marry, he as good as told me if he didn't get it that he would go AWOL, elope with Erica. He's living on a cloud, he's dreaming about love and a future and he could die, Lydia, tomorrow he could be shot down, and what would they have then? It's not worth getting caught up over someone when they can just leave you like that.' Lydia stepped towards Derek, reached a comforting hand out to rest on his arm. Something was scratching at the back of her mind, something she should know.

'It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.' Lydia said softly.

Derek huffed out an impatient breath. 'Don't you see Lydia, it's not. It's better to be saved that hurt, it's better to call things off before they get too serious.'

'They already are serious.' Lydia told him. Derek glared at her.

'It's a fling. And it's over.' Derek said stepping towards the door.

'And what if I love you?' Lydia said rising her voice. Derek paused and looked behind him at her. His face looked open and raw for a second before he closed his eyes.

'Then you're not as smart as I thought you were. I was never in this for love, I wanted to have a bit of fun, and it hasn't been that way for a while now.' Derek answered her.

Lydia watched him turn and walk out of the room, his shoulders hunched and his head low. She fisted her hand in her dress and squeezed, pushing her emotions back, controlling them, and closing her eyes against the pain. The front door closed with a heavy thud and Erica poked her head around the door. 'I'd just finished telling the girls that you won't need a bed warmer tonight because Derek was here but he left, is everything okay?'

'Everything's fine.' Lydia said collecting the cups and stepping into the kitchen. The girls watched her quietly as she poured Derek's untouched coffee down the sink and added her own dregs to it. 'Derek and I won't be seeing each other anymore.'

'What about...' Allison started but Lydia cut her off.

'I'll deal with it.' Lydia said. 'Now I'm tired and going to bed, I have the long shift tomorrow.' They didn't speak as she went upstairs. Lydia washed and changed in her usual routine, sliding beneath the covers into the cold bed. She curled up with her pillow, pressed her face into the soft material and wept. In the morning she remembered that Saturday had been the anniversary of the death of Derek's family.

The next few weeks went past in a blur of work, sleep, eat for Lydia. She saw Derek around the base and hospital from time to time, but kept her distance. He was kept busy with his squadron, and didn't look her way as she passed with her friends, her nurse cape tight around her shoulders. Back when they had first got together, Lydia was doing a routine health check on Derek here in Lincoln Bridge. They were from the same town back home; Derek had been a year or two ahead of her in high school. One night her date had abandoned her at a spring dance, and red faced she turned to leave when she ran face first into a wall of muscle. 'Dance with me,' Derek Hale, captain of the school football team said catching her around the waist. Derek was a senior, tall and handsome, the type of boy a smart kid like Lydia could never dream of catching hold of. Lydia didn't dream of boys, not then, she dreamed of independence away from a controlling father and an overachieving mother.

'Okay,' Lydia had breathed. She let him lead her to the floor, and they moved together to the sound of music. Lydia knew he had a girl, everybody did, older and very beautiful, Kate her name was, the daughter of a rich business man. It had just been the next weekend when Lydia heard the terrible news of the death of Derek's family. A house fire, while they lay in their beds. There were three family members not there, Laura was visiting her new fiancées family accompanied by her uncle and Derek had snuck out to visit the beautiful Kate.

Lydia remembered wanting to take care of Derek, to take him in her arms as he had her and give him some sort of comfort, but she supposed that was what Kate was for. It had been scandalous to later discover that Derek had been set up by his girl, killing the family so Derek would inherit, leading to Gerard her father "helping him out". Of course with Peter and Laura still alive that ruined their plans and the official line in the newspaper read that the couple moved on after irreparable differences.

When Derek came to her station one afternoon shortly after arriving in England, she recognised him instantly. 'I remember you,' Derek said as her fingers rested on his pulse, counting the beats. Lydia smiled at him, and he smiled back.

'I remember you too.' Lydia confessed scribbling her notes down as Derek watched her.

'I danced with you,' Derek tilted his head as Lydia selected a needle to give him some shots he was due, 'I wouldn't mind doing that again?'

'More shots?' Lydia asked wiping the spot on his hip more than she needed to.

'Another dance.' Derek looked over his shoulder. 'Tomorrow night, there's one if you're free?'

'I'm free.' Lydia said. Things went from there, a dance, then a date until Derek was sneaking in and out of the house and Lydia was falling in love.

'We're going out.' Erica said bringing Lydia out of her thoughts one Saturday evening. 'I know for a fact that none of us are working tomorrow, so we're going to a dance. Stiles is coming too though...' Erica bit her lip.

'I'm not going to break because your boyfriend is going to be there Erica.' Lydia rolled her eyes. She felt a little light headed but she went upstairs to make sure she had something that would fit her. Lately her waist had been thickening slightly so she had to be careful what she wore least someone see evidence of her pregnancy.

Allison joined her, sitting carefully on the edge of Lydia's bed as Lydia looked at her beautiful dresses. She had carefully shipped them from home in the small luggage allowance each girl had been allocated. 'I might wear my dress uniform.'

'Wear a pretty dress!' Allison begged, tilting her head to the side so her beautiful hair fell over her shoulder. Lydia pressed her hand beneath the slight raise. Allison tilted her head this way and that examining her body.

'You don't look pregnant.' Allison said pressing her fingers over Lydia's womb. Lydia looked at them in the mirror, Allison's long graceful fingers pressing into the satin of Lydia's shift.

'I feel it. Illness, lethargy, I hope no one has noticed yet.' Lydia muttered. Allison squeezed her hand then let go, reaching into the closet.

'Wear the green one.' Allison indicated the dress by tugging on the skirt. Lydia did as her friend asked, slipping the dress off the hanger.

It was cold as they walked to the dancehall, the four of them and Stiles. He and Erica were a little in front of them. He looked handsome in his uniform, his arm around Erica's slender waist.

'I'm getting a dance with all of you!' Stiles called over his shoulder, a grin on his face.

'Yeah, help me tire him out so he won't talk so much!' Erica begged. Kali snorted but said nothing.

The dance hall was packed when they got there, silly girls tittering over handsome men in uniform. Not for the first time Lydia cursed her stupidity at letting herself get caught out, she could be here with Derek, holding his arm and dancing with their friends.

Stiles found them a table, got the drinks and proceeded to whisk Erica away for a jitterbug. Lydia was content to sit back and people watch for the evening. She declined alcohol as she didn't want to add to her ill feeling, instead choosing to sip at warm lemonade.

She noticed Derek with a group of airmen, girls crowded around them. He was talking among his buddies, but he did dance with a girl at one point, a tall mouthy brunette who Lydia had heard laughing across the hall.

When Stiles came to collect her for their dance the music had slowed. 'Hey,' he said as he wrapped a careful arm around her and Lydia realised he knew. She shot a glare at Erica but her soon to be excommunicated friend just looked away to sip at her gin.

'I don't want to talk about it!' Lydia snapped. She could feel Stiles nodding against her.

'Why don't I talk for a change?' Stiles teased. Lydia snorted but rested her cheek against his shoulder. 'Derek hasn't been his usual sour self lately, he's been worse. I swear his commanding officer is intimated by him.'

'Not my fault.' Lydia muttered but Stiles made a shushing noise.

'My time to talk. You'll get your turn.' Stiles said but he was quiet for a few beats. 'The weekend you girls went to London, well he was sullen, silent. He told me he went over to the house and you girls weren't there. I told him where you were, and he looked so disappointed.' Stiles pulled back to look down but Lydia ignored him.

'Anyway, he's changed. Like he's gone back to how he used to be. Before he found you here he was dangerous, ruthless almost to the point of dangerous flying but he never had an accident, and then you came along. His flying style changed, safer, but he was still dangerous. Now he's back to pre-Lydia, taking all sorts of crazy risks that he chews us out for doing.'

The music changed. 'He loves you, he's just been hurt by his family's passing, and the circumstances, he doesn't want anyone to suffer like he did.'

'How do you know all this?' Lydia demanded almost stopping in their dancing.

'Because I'm observant. I spend a lot of time with these guys in close quarters, you get to know them.' Stiles said moving in earnest again.

'Well whatever, he doesn't want me. I'm not the kind of person who harasses someone until they do want me Stiles.' Lydia said. 'I'm not that girl.'

The threat of Lydia's pregnancy having been a trap reared its head too, and Lydia was sure she'd be accused of doing that in the future, but it was the last thing she wanted to do.

'He does want you.' Stiles insisted.

'He has a funny way of showing it.' Lydia said looking across the dance floor to where Derek was listening to two girls as they chattered away to him, a braying laugh reached Lydia's ears. Derek frowned at the woman, even he knew himself he wasn't that funny.

Later, as lovers took to the floor, Lydia felt the smothering heat of the dance hall consume her. She slipped outside unnoticed by her friends and stood by the rough red brick wall taking big gulps of air trying to stop the spinning between her ears.

'I swear, 'e's an 'ansome devil that one, and a devil 'e is too, 'specially between the sheets, you know what I mean girls.' A voice said. Lydia followed the track and found the braying laugh from earlier, entertaining a group of girls. 'Six months we've been at it, my Yankee pilot. 'e's from California, says 'e can't wait for me to meet his mam. Captain too, Derek 'ale. Mrs Derek 'ale, doesn't that sound wonderful.'

Lydia rolled her eyes and stepped towards them. Anger curled thought her, she knew this woman was lying, and bringing up Derek's mother was the icing on the cake. 'How dare you build a fantasy world around a man you've only just met, clearly you know nothing about Derek.'

'What's wrong love? Jealous are you?' She asked cocking her head to the side. 'Can't get one for yourself, so you try to take mine!'

'He's not yours you idiot,' Lydia argued but her vision was swimming. She saw the woman coming towards her, mouth moving furiously, arm waving around her face and suddenly everything went black.

She woke to the sounds of voices. Blinking she saw him, framed in moonlight, leaning over her to check she was awake. His voice was soft, shushing the women Lydia had been scolding just moments before. Fingers touched her face, urgent voices, Allison's, asked her questions, but Lydia felt like she was sinking. She could barely focus, and then...

'What happened?' This time it was Derek's urgent voice breaking through everything. Lydia blinked as she was gently moved, Derek fixing her hair. She wondered who was holding her, who was familiar enough, and she realised it was Deucalion, the man from London, the British pilot. She wondered how the hell he'd ended up here but someone was speaking.

'I think she fainted.' Deucalion was saying. Allison was whispering something, and then she was lifted from the ground, Derek grunting with the effort. Lydia wrapped an arm around his shoulder as he held her against him. She peered over his shoulder. The English woman who had shared one dance with Derek looked furious, and Deucalion looked pissed off. She didn't care; she pressed her face into Derek's neck breathing deep, two weeks' worth of pain seeping away with the scent of him.

'Where should we take her?' Allison asked softly.

'Home, we can take her home.' Derek said.

'Derek?' Lydia asked softly.

'Hush, relax, I've got you.' Derek promised. Lydia bit her lip and tried not to weep as they made their way back to the house. Everything moved in a blur, but Lydia found herself stripped of her dress, stockings and shoes, and laid on her bed. Derek was sitting on the chair in the corner watching her; the only light in the room a small oil lamp sitting by his chair. He had removed his boots, his hat was on her dresser and his coat was hanging off the corner of the bedpost.

'Hello,' Lydia said sitting up and blinking. Derek rose and handed her a glass of water. Lydia took grateful sips, careful not to take too much and make herself ill again. When she finished Derek sat on the bottom corner of the bed while Lydia rested back against the pillows. His tie was loose, his shirt buttons open. He looked heavy with tiredness, but determined.

'You know you babbled the whole way home,' Derek said softly, 'you have a good friend in Allison, she tried to save you embarrassment of me finding out all your secrets, but there was only so much she could describe as confused and ill before things started making sense to me.'

'All my secrets?' Lydia asked. Her mouth was suddenly dry. Derek nodded his head. Lydia sighed defeated. She looked away, peering out the window at the fat moon. There was a wide ring around it, a clear night.

'I'm not flying tonight,' Derek cut into her thoughts, 'but it's flying weather.'

'I'm not afraid of you dying.' Lydia said turning to face him again, raising her chin slightly. 'Yes I'll be heartbroken, but I'm more afraid of not knowing if we could have had something special.'

'I don't want you hurt, I don't want to die and leave you grieving. You deserve to be happy.' Derek said looking at his hands. Lydia shifted forward on the bed, until she could touch his cheek.

'It's too late, if you die I will grieve because I love you, you make me happy.' Lydia said. Derek shook his head but he leaned into her touch, his lips brushing the heel of her hand.

'Are you really pregnant?' Derek asked. His voice sounded so young and hopeful in that moment, his eyes finally meeting hers.

'Yes,' Lydia said adjusting herself against the pillows and taking Derek's hand in hers. He let her guide his hand to her abdomen, to the slight bump there. Derek's fingers curled into her satin slip for a second and Lydia thought he was going to pull away. Instead he lay down, his arm curled beneath his head as a pillow, his big hand spread across his growing child. 'We're having a girl.'

'How do you know?' Derek asked looking up at her. Lydia couldn't resist running her fingers through his hair.

'I just do. Stay tonight.'

Derek sighed and turned to sit up. Lydia cursed herself for startling him but he started pulling his clothes off his body until he was in his army issue shorts and white tank. He pulled that off too then lifted the blankets.

It had always been a tight squeeze; the bed wasn't exactly designed for two. They moved together getting comfortable on the bed, Derek on his back and Lydia curled around him.

'I was going to ask you to marry me.' Derek's words were quiet in the dark room, hanging there, waiting for examination.

'When?' Lydia asked. Butterflies churned in her tummy, waiting for his answer.

'In hindsight it was a bad idea, the anniversary. I just thought if I replaced a bad memory with a good one, then I found out you went to London, and when I saw it from the air, the destruction... I convinced myself something happened to you. Even if it hadn't I, I just got thinking and...This changes everything!' Derek took a breath. Lydia had never heard him say so much before. The thought of him waiting for her, eager to replace old memories with new ones, an idea on his mind. How hurt he must have been when he discovered she'd went away without even mentioning it to him.

'Derek I'm sorry, I should have talked to you before I left, and that was rude, what I did.' Lydia said. Derek's arms tightened on her waist.

'It was my fault; I should have told you how I felt instead of hiding it. You're my girl; guys would kill to have you.' Derek said. Lydia's heart stuttered and she relaxed at his side. They fell asleep wrapped in each other.

Lydia folded her hands in her lap as she sat waiting for Captain Monroe to speak. The woman in question was shuffling papers into files, ignoring Lydia completely. 'Married.' She said eventually.

'Yes ma'am.' Lydia said shortly.

'To Captain Derek Hale?' She said with

'Yes ma'am.'

'Lydia, I expected more of you, I'm disappointed.' Captain Monroe said. Lydia felt a shame curl in her chest, that she'd disappointed a woman she'd come so much to admire. Captain Monroe was an excellent role model and a first class nurse. Lydia believed she was wasted here in a small base hospital where the worse thing they tended to treat was frostbite for pilots. The field was missing out on her.

'I'm sorry, but...'

'I have on my desk here paperwork for a promotion, first lieutenant.' Captain Monroe said. Lydia watched her with keen eyes, wondering where the woman was going with this. 'Now, if you forget this silly wedding business and tell Captain Hale to get on his bike, I'll be sure to fast track it. You'll have your stripes for your uniform by the morning.'

Promotion, to first Lieutenant. The price to pay, her relationship with the man she loved, and her unborn child. It wouldn't just be Lydia paying that price, Derek would too, rejection, after everything he confessed yesterday, and it would break him down to pieces. He would be hurt, and Lydia envisioned him never getting over it, not really recovering, just living in that state of perpetual anger that when they were together, it lessened. Lydia imagined with time and happiness, Derek would eventually stop brooding over the death of his family altogether, and remember them fondly. She felt she could give him that.

'I'm sorry to disappoint you Captain Monroe, see I love Derek, and I know right now you're thinking I'm a silly girl, but he's the man I want to spend my life with, I'll pass your promotion by thank you.' Lydia said. She felt her toes curl in her russet brown dress shoes, her fingers pressed into her olive drab skirt, careful not to mark a crease into it. Captain Monroe was staring at her, open and curious now.

'When are you due?' The question was out of the blue but Lydia wasn't surprised.

'I haven't had it confirmed by anyone.' Lydia admitted. Captain Monroe nodded.

'I'll examine you myself. Exam room one should be free right now.' She stood, fixing her papers and indicating that Lydia should lead the way.

They walked quietly, the clacking of their heels the only sound in the dimly lit corridor. Lydia felt like she was marching to her demise. Captain Monroe had handpicked her team after they had completed their training, but she had never reasoned why she did it, Lydia felt her heart sink that she had let someone down who had put so much faith and stock in her to choose her from hundreds of candidates. The examination room was dull inside, the light taking a moment to reach its full capacity.

'If you'll step behind this curtain, remove everything beneath your waist, and-'

'I know the drill Captain Monroe.' Lydia said, not rude, but defeated. Captain Monroe nodded her dark curls firm beneath her cap. She retreated into the other room, and Lydia heard the tell-tale noises of a nurse getting ready for an examination.

'I was a midwife you know, before this war broke out.' Captain Monroe's voice carried through the curtain. 'I was a field nurse in the first war, ghastly business, terrible state the soldiers were in. My young man, he came by one day on a stretcher, his face bandaged, all but one eye. He could barely see me, but he held my hand as we cleaned him up. It was all in secret of course, or relationship, it just looked like I was comforting a dying man, because there was no saving him. That evening I sat down and thought hard about my future, I would be dismissed, I knew, a single pregnant nurse didn't do, especially with a dead lover. Then, I lost the child. My heart broke, and I cried for the longest time, until I was told to pull myself together, that others needed me.' Captain Monroe appeared around the curtain, dressed ready for Lydia's examination. 'When the new war broke out, I didn't want to waste my skills with soldiers children back home, so I re-enlisted.'

'Will I be dismissed?' Lydia asked as Captain Monroe ducked to examine Lydia.

'You're perhaps three months along.' Captain Monroe ignored the question. 'You're a fit, healthy woman, and you've had a good start to your pregnancy. I'm afraid the promotion I was speaking of had a little to do with whatever they're planning, I know nothing about it. I think June will see you with a son or daughter, and I'm sure you'll be a fantastic mother, but traditionally, I've found, nurses make the worst kind of patients. Be sure you're having regular sex with your young man.'

Lydia blushed hotly, but Captain Monroe just gave her a smile. Lydia nodded her head, remembering just that morning, in the predawn light after Derek's flight when he crawled into her bed and woke her with kisses and cold fingers, fingers that she helped him to warm up.

'Good, keep doing it, it's good for baby and good for you, it'll make birthing easier. And as you get closer I'm sure I don't need to tell you not too rough, it's okay now but...'

'I know.' Lydia said looking at a spot above Captain Monroe's head.

'I'm finding myself in a strange situation. I miss nursing for administration work; I wouldn't mind getting more hands on activity. I wouldn't mind an assistant in my office, to take the load off me. It may be boring work for one so bright but it means you're in my office all day, and the greatcoats and capes now are rather...camouflage don't you think?' Captain Monroe said moving Lydia's legs to a more comfortable position.

'You mean you want me to help you?' Lydia asked. Captain Monroe nodded.

'When I came back to the army, one of the requests that I made was getting to pick my own team. I created sub teams as you know, and I did that for a reason. Each little team was made up of four girls. I knew that Erica was young, only just graduated her degree with no experience. You had experience in abundance, Kali was a good protective girl, and Allison has the best bedside manner I have ever encountered. Your little team is the best team I have, and I was for sending you all on this specialist training, with your as their leader, but then young Erica's getting married, and now you, and Kali's receiving her own unique training for surgery and Allison, well, I don't want to let any of you go. You being pregnant isn't a bad thing, for me anyway. I get to keep you here, but I need something from you.'

'Anything.' Lydia said raising her chin.

'I need you to keep this to yourself. I need you to be careful. When the baby's born we'll work out what to do with her, but for now please, don't risk our careers.' Captain Monroe pleaded.

'I won't, I promise.' Lydia said. She got dressed alone then found the woman sitting in the desk in the outer office.

'I'll take personal responsibility for your care, me and Sargent Argent.' Captain Monroe said. 'Who else knows?'

'My team, Derek, one of his pals...' Lydia said. Had Derek told anyone else? She wasn't sure.

'I know you want to scream this news from the rooftops, but keep it to yourself.' Captain Monroe said.

'Of course.' Lydia agreed.

'Back to normal duties for now, and would you sent Sargent Argent to my office please when you both get a chance, I would like to talk to her about our new joint programme. I wouldn't do any harm for her to learn about pre natal care.' Captain Monroe said. Lydia smiled and nodded, leaving the examination room.

They got married on a sunny afternoon in late February. Lydia wore a white dress made from parachute silk that Derek "found" lying around. Derek wore his dress uniform, and Lydia was disappointed to note his flight jacket wasn't part of his ensemble, but he did drag it over his shoulders as they headed for the train to their three day honeymoon to Brighton. During their journey, Derek kept his arm slung around her shoulders, kept her pressed to the side of the car. His long legs trapped her, creating a barrier between them and the rest of the carriage. They still received curious glances though, from various inhabitants of the train, but Lydia ignored them in favour of examining her simple gold wedding band.

The hotel they found was on the sea front. The rooms were small, a double squeezed against a wall, one armchair and a table by the window, but there was a private bathroom but it was clean so that was all that mattered. It was late in the evening by the time they arrived, so they headed back out to find a cafe where they could enjoy their first proper meal as husband and wife. The coffee was awful, and the bread was hard, but there was some meat and gravy and plenty of potatoes. They left with full bellies and walked along the seafront hand in hard. It was dark, but there were people around, young couples pressed into corners kissing and caressing, snatching precious moments together, older couples walking the promenade together, talking of their past. Two women leaned against the railing discussing what their husbands were doing in Africa right now.

It was a clear night, and Lydia could see the barricades on the beach to prevent invasion. It made her shudder, nasty wire and large metal structures, ugly but practical in keeping unwanted company out, ruining the sight of such a beautiful place. 'One day, I'd love to come here when the war is over; see what England is really like.' Lydia said. Derek grunted in agreement. They stood for a long time, just watching the ocean, as if waiting for something. Lydia felt Derek tense behind her, his arm tight on her waist, the leather warm underneath her palms.

And that's when she saw it, something dark flickering past the moonlight. A bomber. Derek rested his cheek against her head as the planes rumbled towards them, his body tense as his eyes tracked an enemy he was so used to fighting from the air, the enemy he was useless to attack here on the ground, and then as if out of nowhere a small squad of perhaps five or six planes flew overhead. Lydia knew the men in those planes, so did Derek. Derek flew those planes, flew these missions.

'They have to meet them here, we're useless over London or any big city, flak catches all planes no matter what country they hail from. Usually, we circle the outskirts waiting for stray planes.' Derek said softly. A small crowd gathered to watch the dogfights as the fighters escorting the bombers went into action, but as the night lightning came into contact with their enemies, Derek tugged her hand backwards. 'Let's go back.'

'What's wrong Yankee can't stand the heat?' A thick British voice called after him. Derek tightened his fingers but other ways ignored the jab. 'Frightened of what you might see?'

'How cruel?' Lydia said, not caring if anyone heard her. Derek didn't respond but Lydia did hear someone tell the man behind them to shut up. She smiled, nudging her shoulder against Derek until he relaxed. They tracked silently to the guest house, up the stairs and closed the door with a soft click.

Lydia undressed quickly, it was cold and the small wood burner in the corner was doing nothing to heat the room. She had no illusions that Derek would let any clothing stay on her so she didn't bother with the night garments they packed, just slipped into bed still wearing stockings and underwear. Derek would enjoy removing them anyway.

Derek was naked when he joined her, wrapping strong arms around her and rolling until he was on top of her, his body covering hers. His fingers were soft glancing over her skin, lips following their path. She wrapped herself around him and they moved together, hips rolling in a frantic motion until Derek pulled away long enough to strip her, his eyes tracking her naked body, kissing her breasts, between her legs, resting large palms over the swell of their child growing inside her. Finally Lydia was naked and Derek was hot on top of her, fingers in her hair pressing his lips to hers. This was her favourite dance, Derek panting into her hair, her shoulder, his arms straining to take his weight, to keep her and the baby safe as he pushed into her again and again, building heat and friction. Lydia ran her fingers through his hair, and in the darkness of the room, with the blinds open their eyes met. 'I love you,' Derek whispered in the darkness of the room.

Lydia bit her lip and let the shudders of orgasm wash through her, clinging to Derek until both their breathing calmed. She didn't remember falling asleep but something woke her in the night, and Lydia had no idea what. Derek was lying on his back, and Lydia was using him as a pillow. He was awake, his fingers trailing from the top of her ass up several bumps of her spine and back down again.

'What made you become a nurse?' Derek's voice broke through the darkness.

'I wanted to be a doctor, a scientist who does all this wonderful research we hear about all the time. My father wouldn't allow it, said it would be embarrassing to have a daughter as a doctor. I applied for nursing school. He wasn't too happy for me to do that either but he conceded it was a more feminine career.' Lydia used to feel bitter about it, but was good at ignoring the man and his backward ideals for women now. 'Why did you join the Air Force?'

'We had planes, my father and I used to fly together, and mother too was a great pilot. One night, I snuck out to see Kate. She wanted me to take her for a flying lesson in the dark. It wasn't done; I didn't have the skill or equipment. We had sex in her father's car instead. She told me she wanted a baby, and soon. I suppose if was another way of trapping me,' Derek sighed.

'Was that the night?' Lydia spoke, frightened that Derek would seize up.

'I sometimes wonder if I'd have took her flying would I have saw the fire and been able to do anything to save them,' Derek admitted.

'Like what?' Lydia said running her fingers through the soft hair on his belly. She waited but Derek didn't answer. 'So you save these people instead, that's why you prefer to fly at night.'

'Something like that.' Derek whispered, and Lydia knew he was barely admitting this even to himself. She ran her fingers over the warm metal of his dog tags, grinding them together, listening to the noise they made in the room. She hoped he got to take them off himself one day, not have someone remove them from him to identify his body, but then, the likelihood of their being a body if he was shot down from the air was slim. She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed those thoughts away, Derek was here in bed with her, alive. They were going to go home and together they were going to live a long and happy life.

'When this is all over, when we get home, you can go back to school if you want, you can do whatever you want,' Derek said as if his thoughts were on the same thing, 'I'll take care of both of you.'

Lydia snuggled closer. They didn't speak anymore, but they didn't sleep either, both watching the sunlight finally seep into the room.

After their wedding Derek spent more and more time training, flying for missions that he knew nothing about, taking long trips over the United Kingdom and Ireland. He didn't share much with Lydia; time together was about being with each other, watching their child grow in her womb, warm touches and sweet caresses.

Lydia wrote to her father to inform him of her nuptials shortly after they resumed normal duties back from their honeymoon. Derek would call in every couple of days. His own news to his sister and uncle was received well, so when a letter arrived from home Lydia took a seat at the table and tore into the envelope.

She was still sitting there an hour later when Derek, Stiles and Erica tumbled in the door laughing about something. Derek stopped when he saw Lydia with tear tracks on her cheeks. 'What's wrong, is it the baby?'

'Baby's fine,' Lydia wrapped her arms around Derek's shoulders and pressed her face into his neck.

'Then what,' Derek started then he stilled.

'My parents just sent me a "dear John" letter.' Lydia said. Apparently her poor decision making in choosing to marry Derek Hale had led them to question her future. Derek wasn't what they wanted for her, not now that his family had died and he was considered "unstable" because he'd dated the woman responsible for the murders.

Derek read the letter with eyebrows almost meeting his hairline. Lydia sat beside him, cheek on his shoulder. 'I'm going to write them, let them know that we married in January and I'm due in June.' Lydia said looking up to Derek. He slid his arm around her shoulders.

'Like a goodbye present! I love it!' Erica squealed. 'Oh let's go out the four of us, lets double date!'

'We could stalk Allison on her date with Isaac,' Lydia suggested.

'Yeah, come on we could drink warm beer and watch Isaac try and control those gangly limbs of his!' Stiles agreed.

'You're one to talk about controlling your limbs,' Derek complained but he got to his feet and barely let Lydia out of his sight the rest of the evening.

One hot evening in late May, a few weeks after Lydia's letter, Derek was sitting on their bed reading when Lydia padded inside the room. She crawled between his legs and rested her head on his shoulder, nudging his book out if the way. 'I'm calling her Christine.'

Derek inhaled sharply and pressed his face into the curve of her shoulder. 'That was my grandmother's name,' he whispered eventually. Lydia kissed his fingers, nipping the pads then pressing his arm around her chest.

'I know,' was all she said.

Christine Hale was born on June 6th, 1944, early in the morning as her father flew over the beaches of Normandy supporting invading troops. He didn't know he was a father for almost a week. They had been moved into Northern France immediately after the invasion, to an airbase to fuel the war effort there. Lydia resumed normal duties at home, tending to the influx of wounded men while trustworthy girls from the village took care of baby Christine.

They passed letters back and forward, Derek and Lydia, talking of their future. Lydia described Christine's infancy in detail, making sure to write a paragraph each day on a separate page for him, eventually turning it into a little book of her daughter's childhood. Weeks gave way to months, and the skies darkened, the weather turning colder, and with it, the war turning in their favour.

On her first wedding anniversary Lydia and Christine stood watching aircraft fly overhead, new pilots in new planes fresh from the States, proud young men who couldn't wait to get their teeth into the fight. They were eager and excited about the war, and Lydia got invited to dances and parties frequently, but she politely declined all of them, spending every spare moment with her little girl.

When the war ended Lydia was more than ready to go home. Derek communicated less and less, but he had told her that things were easier, there was less loss of life among the ranks, but they still faced other problems that he didn't speak of on paper. He was in Northern Italy now, and he seemed to enjoy the weather, "you would love it here darling, and I'm sure our little Christine would too," he wrote one day. Lydia read each letter aloud to the baby girl, a year old, telling her of the wonderful things her father was doing, of their home back in California, of all the fun and siblings she would have.

Then her orders came to ship out, and chaos followed. Why did a first lieutenant have a year old daughter, shouldn't she have been dismissed. Lydia raised her chin and argued hotly for her case. One particular colonel wanted to ship her home with the young British women who had gotten themselves in trouble with US service men, but Lydia wouldn't hear of it. She was travelling with her unit or there would be all hell to pay. 'Leave it to me,' Captain Monroe said putting a hand on Lydia's arm, and twenty minutes later Lydia was given a boarding pass to the same room her friends shared. Smiling she boarded a ship home.

'Mama Dada,' Christine babbled from her spot on the grass. Lydia shot an indulgent glance over her shoulder, then immediately turned back to where Laura Hale was helping to mix a birthday cake. It was June 5th, tomorrow Lydia's little girl would be two years old. Two years and she had never met her father, two years since Lydia had seen her husband. Two long years of hoping and dreaming, wishing and wondering. The letters had practically died away from him, he was never in the same place for long now, and Lydia had no forwarding address for him any longer. The last letter was over two months ago, but Lydia and Christine would read one or two of his old letters as bedtime stories. Every night Christine would kiss the picture of Derek that Lydia kept. Christine could be a shy child, and Lydia was worried she would reject her father; she didn't want Derek to feel that way, despite warnings she had written to him, she wanted Christine to fall into his arms and honour him like the hero he was.

'Dada!' Christine cried again tossing the rag doll Laura had made for her onto the grass, then climbing to her feet to gather it back up. She squatted there for a moment, red curls and green eyes turned on Lydia before running into the garden. It was well fenced in and Derek's Uncle Peter had put a fence up separating the pond from the rest of the garden so the little girl could have free reign. 'Dada, dada, dada, dada.'

'My, she knows that name well for never having met him.' Erica said from her place at the kitchen table. Instead of splitting up the girls had followed Lydia, as they had always done, finding homes in Northern California.

Even Captain Monroe was settled a few towns over. They worked out of the same hospital, in different wards. Christine had taken to calling the woman Grandma, and no convincing could do other ways. 'Of course I don't mind,' Captain Monroe had said, 'I delivered her after all!'

'I know,' Lydia said coming back out of her thoughts, thinking of Derek and Christine together, imagining him smile whenever Christine did something particularly adorable, which quite frankly, was all the time. Allison took a sip of her tea, something she'd carried back from England, preferring it to coffee. Laura watched her suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. Kali was sitting on the bench, bare feet cooling on the kitchen tiles.

The big wireless crackled in the corner of the kitchen and Vera Lynn's beautiful voice sang out _We'll Meet Again._

'Dada!' Christine cried again from outside. Lydia heard Uncle Peters car pull in and Laura stepped out to greet him. Lydia took over stirring of the cake. 'Dada!' Christine sounded delighted, clapping her hands and making a high squealing noise. For a moment Lydia was worried that she was calling Uncle Peter dada but then Erica gasped and shot out of her chair. Lydia followed her confused, just in time to catch Erica launch herself at Stiles.

Stiles was home, and Lydia felt an ache, a familiar longing for her own husband, but then why was Stiles here? Christine caught her eye, but she was in someone's arms, someone Lydia didn't immediately recognise, but Christine did. She looked so trusting and happy in his arms, her chubby little fingers curled in the wool of his flight jacket. 'Dada!' Christine told Lydia with her most earnest face, as if Lydia didn't know who he was.

Lydia smiled wide at them, walking towards where Derek held Christine. 'Afternoon ma'am.' Derek touched his cap politely.

'Afternoon sir.' Lydia said. Christine watched them both with interest as Lydia leaned up on her toes and Derek caught her in a kiss, wrapping his arm around her waist and swinging them all around. Christine squealed and clapped her hands as Lydia and Derek came together again for a second kiss.

'Come on sweetheart; let's get on with the rest of our lives.'


End file.
